


Astonished and in Rapture

by Randominity



Series: A Vicarious Occasion [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fingerfucking, M/M, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randominity/pseuds/Randominity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to <a href="http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/470932/">A Vicarious Occasion</a>. For flimsy, with thanks, for the idea, encouragement, and title.</p>
<p>  <i>“You smell entirely too much like other people,” Louis comments to Harry as they make their way across the flat to his bedroom, frog-marching him with his hands pushed down into Harry's front pockets.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Astonished and in Rapture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flimsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flimsy/gifts).



“Missed you,” is the first thing Louis says when they enter Harry's flat, the flat he and Harry used to share, and it's always the same, some variation of separation and reconciliation that has Louis pressing one or the other of them into the wall with kisses. Eleanor smiles and follows them in, closing the door behind her, and doesn't comment because the answer, too, is always the same, as to why the three of them can't simply share the same space.

“You smell entirely too much like other people,” Louis comments to Harry as they make their way across the flat to his bedroom, frog-marching him with his hands pushed down into Harry's front pockets. Harry's trousers are dangerously close to sliding off his arse entirely.

“What's that even supposed to mean?” Harry wonders, navigating them both slowly through the hall. Eleanor side-steps the corner of a table and marvels at how they were able to avoid it. “I've been around other people, it's what should happen,” Harry says.

“I mean, you used to smell more like me,” Louis tells him, and pulls his hands out of Harry's pockets and rubs them up and down Harry's sides.

“Oh,” Harry says, twisting in his grasp, and Eleanor's heart lurches, as it always does, to see them like this, to see the glimpses of what they have between them. Louis doesn't elaborate, and Harry doesn't push; they just step into Harry's bedroom and Louis leans up to kiss Harry again, sweetly this time, with his arms over Harry's shoulders, and after a moment he releases him and turns to pull Eleanor back towards the bed.

Louis stops them in the middle of the room to kiss her, hands roaming her sides while he alternates between nuzzling at her neck and licking into her mouth. She feels, rather than hears, Harry move past them, but rather than acknowledging it Louis slides down the length of her body to his knees. His hands grip her hips and he thumbs up her shirt, mouthing at her navel. He gazes up at her through his fringe and snaps his teeth together, pressing kisses to her lower belly and unfastening her shorts.

“Get naked and on the bed already!” Harry's voice carries a tinge of fond irritation, and they both giggle, Louis tilting his forehead to Eleanor's stomach and pulling her closer to him at the same time. She looks over at Harry, laying prone on his bed, fully nude and propped up on one elbow, touching himself distractedly with his other hand.

“Poor you,” Eleanor calls, “all alone over there,” while Louis slides her shorts and pants down over her hips. He straightens while she steps out of them and looks over his shoulder at Harry.

“So you get to be lazy,” Louis asks him, “and we get to do all the work?” but he leads Eleanor to the bed by the hand anyway. “Is that it?” he says, crawling over to Harry and straddling him over the thighs, pushing Harry fully onto his back. Eleanor joins them, stretching out next to Harry, and she keeps her shirt on, but tugs at Louis' until he lifts his arms above his head and she and Harry pull it up and over.

“I got naked first,” Harry says. He reaches out and touches Louis' thigh. “That means I win. Winner gets to be lazy. You all have to amuse me.”

“What do you want,” Louis says, softly, asking the both of them. He palms Harry's hip with one hand and touches his cock with the other, sliding both hands up and back just a bit while shifting on his haunches, and Eleanor wants that, wants him naked with Harry between his thighs just like that.

“I want you there,” she says. “Like this,” and Harry grins up at them. Louis returns the grin, eyes crinkling, then turns his head to look at her.

“Yeah?” he says, raising his eyebrows. “I sort of had plans for you,” and his gaze drops from her face down the length of her body. “Where will you be?”

“Right here,” she smiles. “You know, doing all the work.” Harry laughs and pulls Louis down by the hand for a kiss, and she sits up to remove her own shirt and unhook her bra. They separate and both turn to watch her appreciatively while she does, and after, she takes the opportunity to kneel and kiss Louis again, reaching in to unbutton his shorts. His fingers tangle in her hair for a moment when he brings his hands up to cup her jaw, and she feels Harry's hand spread round her waist and back, warm and solid; the certainty that he's doing the same with Louis on the other side has her smiling against Louis' lips.

Louis pulls away, sitting back and bringing his legs forward so they can pull his shorts and pants off together, and she follows him backwards, pressing kisses to his chin while she strokes his dick between them. She leaves him with a final peck and trails her fingers over Harry's stomach as she climbs off the bed to rummage for condoms and lube. Harry has a package of condoms in the nightstand and she tears one off and hands it to Louis, who drops it on Harry's head, pulling his hand back when Harry bats it away.

“Give us another one,” Louis says, wiggling his fingers at her, and she rolls her eyes and does so, already tearing a third condom free when Louis throws it at Harry and holds out his hand again. She hands him a fourth and Louis catches the condom Harry's whipped back at him with a squawk. Grinning, she patiently makes a neat stack of detached condoms on the edge of the bed for the two of them to destroy before Louis leans in and bites at the side of Harry's neck, licking over it afterwards and kissing him properly.

The condoms are quickly forgotten, Louis' hands disappearing into Harry's hair, and Eleanor watches the slick glide of their tongues against each other, the way Harry's hand comes up and envelops the back of Louis' neck, and feels herself grow heavy and wet from the imagery alone, from the thought of being with them, of being between them. Louis rolls his hips down onto Harry's and she can't quite see where their cocks are aligned between them, but she hears Harry's answering gasp and how his head tilts back into Louis' hands. She remains on her knees, holding the bottle of lube she retrieved, and slides the fingers of her other hand over her breasts and then down her stomach to push her palm against her clit, just to tease. She's just close enough to reach back and touch Louis' arse, to brush over the fingers of the hand Harry's already placed there, kneading as they kiss, so she flicks open the bottle, intending to lube Harry's fingers to get him ready.

But she reaches out with a dry finger first, curiously trailing down between Louis' arse cheeks and just barely brushing his hole. Louis' hips jerk as he pulls away from Harry. “ _Yes_!” he whispers, so emphatically that she quickly pours lube over her fingers and traces the same path again, and this time her fingers meet Harry's, and Harry wastes no time pushing his middle finger into Louis. Louis arches back into it, sighing in counterpart to Harry's moan, and Eleanor stares as Harry's finger disappears into Louis down to the second knuckle. She continues to add lube, getting both hers and Harry's fingers slick and dripping down Louis' crack and it seems like rather a lot but neither Harry nor Louis have indicated she should stop. She caps the bottle nonetheless, and presses her thumb against Louis' taint, unfurling her fingers over his balls and sliding her hand underneath him to grip his cock. He gasps and bucks his hips, groaning, “no-- no, I'll come,” as he bats down at her weakly, and Harry's got two fingers into him now, twisting them over and over.

Eleanor sets the bottle down and presses her index finger against the stretched rim of Louis' hole and watches it slide right in the gap between Harry's scissored fingers. It's almost impossibly tight, and yet she manages to keep her finger crooked down while Harry's squirm around her, and the sight alone has her reaching down to slide the fingers of her free hand into herself, feeling herself open up around them, clenching when Louis does. Louis shudders hard and looks over his shoulder at her, his face red and pupils dark. “Yeah,” he nods, panting, “like that, like that, fuck, I'm-- El, what are you--”

“I think she's helping,” Harry supplies, looking down the length of his body at her and half-smiling when he catches her eye, and his gaze lowers to her other hand. 

“ _God_ ,” Louis says in a choked voice, and reaches for a condom, fucking back on their fingers.

Harry withdraws his fingers to help him get the condom unrolled, then pumps himself a few times with a slick fist, leaving Eleanor to pull out of Louis on her own, circling Louis' rim all over again and making his breath hitch as she does. Louis lines himself up over Harry's cock and sinks down on him, bracing himself on Harry's stomach and hissing with pleasure, and she moves back up the bed to lay down next to Harry and watch. She keeps her fingers within herself and bucks against her palm and feels the weight of Louis' eyes on her as he grinds himself over Harry's cock, his own dick bobbing between them. His mouth is open, working soundlessly as he blinks himself back from letting his eyes roll into his head, and strands of his fringe are plastered to his forehead with sweat.

“I want,” he breathes, and shakes his head jerkily, thighs flexing as he rocks back against Harry, and Eleanor curls her fingers at that with a moan, fighting to keep her own eyes open. Louis gropes for her along the sheets. “Let me take care of you, let me--” 

“No, wait-- come here,” Harry says suddenly, reaching over to take Eleanor's free hand and tug her closer, turning her toward him. She frowns at him, confused, shooting a glance back at Louis, and Harry tugs at her again, biting his lip. He says, “like this, here,” softer, sliding a hand under her thigh.

Louis slurs, “fuck, yeah, El, sit on his face, do it,” tilting his head back and reaching behind himself to put his hands on Harry's thighs, and Eleanor says,

“Oh my _god_ ,” staring at his cock, wet at the tip as his hips swivel, grinds down on her own hand hard and cries out as she comes, her pussy rippling around her fingers.

She catches her breath and pulls her hand free, and then Harry's lifting her hips effortlessly over his head, her arse over his nose, leaving it for her to balance herself with her palms against his chest. She kneels up over him and he holds her fast while he licks a stripe back from her clit, not at all fazed by how wet she is already, making her gasp and shudder. Her first orgasm was weak but she's well on her way to another, with Harry lapping at her clit and nipping her with his lips, teasing and pulling her closer. Harry hums against her contentedly and Louis jerks forward at that with a cut-off whine, hands grasping at Harry's stomach as he comes, striping Eleanor's thigh and Harry's chest and stomach without his cock having been touched.

Harry grunts and his hips buck and his teeth scrape the hood of her clit and Eleanor's thighs tighten around him as she comes again, shuddering, warmth spreading within her and wetness seeping out. She's careful to keep her weight off his face momentarily, even as her thighs shake, and lets herself fall to the side, pulling her leg in as she goes. She's still panting, coming down from it, when Harry passes one hand over his wet face and reaches out to stroke Louis' cock with it, his other hand back to gripping at Louis' hip.

“Stop it,” Louis says weakly, breathing heavily, but his cock is still half-hard and twitches from the contact, and Harry holds on to Louis' hips with both hands and thrusts up into him hard, making his breath catch. “If you kept going, she'd come again, you know,” Louis pants, his voice low as he leans down to mouth lazily at Harry's jaw, and Eleanor smiles, curling in towards Harry. She isn't sure who he's trying to rile more at this point, Harry or herself.

Harry mutters, “if I keep going, _you'll_ come again,” but he's on edge, Eleanor knows, close already from all the teasing, and his fingers dig into Louis' arse cheeks as he bucks up quickly, then faster still. He bites down on his lower lip and groans as he pushes up into Louis a couple more times, breathing out hard and then falling slack against the bed. Louis squirms up against him and bites at his collarbone, and Harry shoves at his shoulder. “Get off, you're smearing me,” he says, and Louis cackles as he rolls off to the side, letting Harry slip free of him.

They lay there, limbs tangled together and sweat making their skin tacky, for some time, and then Harry speaks up again. “Well,” he sighs. “Guess that means I'm the wet spot.” They all share a laugh and he sweeps his fingers up Eleanor's arm, smooths his other hand over Louis' back. “Missed you too,” he says finally, and it's the last thing she remembers, fingers linked with Louis across Harry's chest.


End file.
